Thistle and Weeds
by Leah Holmes
Summary: Merlin, the geeky student who smokes weed on the down low, and Arthur, the strict literature teacher that never gives out an A, thought their relationship was a well kept secret until Morgana, the devious principal, recieves an email from a third party exposing them. With Arthur facing prosecution and Merlin facing his mother's wrath, the two of them set off to find out who.


If I could tell you that my life is ordinary, normal, or boring then I'd be lying. You see, dear reader, my life is quite the opposite. In fact, I'm probably going to hell at some point just for the first seventeen years of my life.

Why, you may ask, is that, Merlin? Well, I'm more than happy to tell you. But hey, I like puzzles too. I'll give you a brief recount of my day to let you make put the pieces together as you please.

This morning, I woke after hitting my snooze button four times and only rolled out of bed after a text from a certain person (I'll get into that later – I promise). I think my mother may have yelled my name a few times, but I'm not entirely sure about that. In conclusion, it took me a while to summon myself out of bed and into the shower. I skipped on shaving because who the hell has time for that. Besides, _he_ likes a beard. I think it makes him think I'm older than my measly seventeen.

"Merlin," my mum called from the kitchen, where I assumed that she was fixing me something to eat.

I popped my head out of my doorframe with the tips of my hair dripping and my skin flushed from the hot water. "Yes, mum?"

She took a long look at me, softly smiling as she did. I've always been special to her with good reason; after my father died, I'm the only other person she's got left to boss about. "I've left some eggs and fruit at your place with some money to buy yourself something to eat at lunch. I'll be home at normal time, so don't worry about dinner."

I nodded in acknowledgement, only half-listening to what she'd said. I equated this information as 'Alright, Merlin. I'm leaving now so it's okay to smoke a joint whilst eating peanut butter and sending dirty texts to your boyfriend, who I know nothing about'. So, I wished her a good day at work, blew a few air kisses, then waved as she pulled out of the driveway. As soon as her car was out of view, I yanked a shirt over my scrawny arms and made sure my shoes matched my socks because that shit was somewhat cool these days. And I was forever trying to be 'cool'. Will was cool. Freya was cool. Why couldn't I be cool, too? I blame it on genetics. And my flaming homosexuality. Which nobody knows about except _him_, obviously.

Just as I was sitting down to my morning weed and spoonful of peanut butter, the first text rang in.

**Hope you're out of bed, Merlin. A**

I smiled and ruffled a hand through my hair, messing it up just perfectly, as I thought of a provocative, sexy reply. Because hormones like that shit.

**Had to take care of that boner, didn't I? M**

It took him a good ten minutes to reply, and by that point I was already on my way out of the door. I was late yesterday (Thanks to Will and his bloody gas aversions). A second tardy would result in detention. Nobody wanted that.

**Wish I was there to help. A**

I didn't respond to him at that point for I was a firm believer in no texting and driving (Smoking and driving is another situation, though. I do that pretty regularly). However, I was continuously dreaming up ideas for later steamy text sessions, probably during second period as that is his free class.

The day went as usual from there.

First period trig was a piece of cake, as usual. The morons in my class (Namely this sleaze called Gwaine and his full chested girlfriend, Vivian, who shouldn't even be in that class to begin with) made me feel like I was in remediation rather than advanced placement. I probably spoke to both of them once in my lifetime and it was probably to ask for a pencil. I'm not exactly outgoing, you see. I'm more of an observer.

Second period was interesting, to say the least. I'd seen _him_ in the hallway on my way to my advanced literature class, but our eyes met for a brief second before fluttering apart. God, he's so fucking handsome. Our text conversation during that small, forty-five minute block went a little like this:

**Hey. A**

**Hi. M **

**Come see me after school. A**

**Gladly. M**

**Looking forward to it. I've got to run. I have to babysit a class and what kind of a teacher would I be if I was sending filthy messages to a student, two classrooms down? A**

And now that basically leads me here. Kind of. I might have left out a few class periods, but really all that happened was Mr. Du Lac (Lance, as _he_ calls him) busted Will for skipping but let him go after a stern lecture, Ms. Pendragon (_his _sister, Morgana, whom he hates with a burning passion) held more 'follow the dress code or wear a gym uniform' assemblies, and Mrs. Du Lac recommended Freya for honors chemistry instead of advanced placement. Of course a few fights broke out between Valiant and his band of idiots, including but not limited to the rugby team (Which _he_ coached), but that's nothing new.

I am currently stuck in the back of Mrs. Du Lac's advanced placement class, doing next to nothing while the remainder of the class babbles on about sex, drugs, and whatever else normal kids talk about. Music, food, clothes? I have no idea. The minute hand on the clocks seems to never move and second hand is always worse. To take my mind off of the slowness of time, I check my phone. No new messages. Or rather, no new messages from the person I actually want to talk to.

Hey, maybe I should tell you about that whole debacle.

Well, his name is Arthur and he's a literature teacher here at Camelot high. I had him last year, he immediately loved me to pieces, then eventually started having sex with me.

LOL JK. I wish. It went a little more like this:

I moved here to York just last February from a small town called Ealdor with my mother. As you can probably imagine, it was rough for me. I'm that geeky kid with the glasses, the perfect report card, and the appearance of a teenager permanently stuck mid-puberty and the kids at Camelot didn't pay me any mind. Except for Valiant.

From day one, he'd terrorized me. I was small, defenseless, and passive-aggression to his hulking, muscular, and aggression. Needless to say, I became very acquainted to the toilets and trashcans around school.

Arthur was my literature teacher. He gave off that arrogant, proud, 'I'm soo much better than you' vibe like an expensive cologne imported from wherever the fuck cologne is made. He graded harshly, gave excessive amounts of homework, and his tests were straight from hell itself. His appearance was and is always perfect; his suits are tailored to absolute perfect, snug and taught to his body, and his hair always immaculately gelled and styled. He definitely was and is the definition of rich, sexy, private school teacher, even though Camelot is public but whatever.

Anyways, Arthur noted my frequent tardies, disheveled looks, and black eyes from the start. I didn't know this, but he always looked out for me. Slowly, I noticed Valiant's taunts trickle down to near nothing and for the longest time I had no idea why (Later I learned that Arthur threatened to throw him off the rugby team).

But that doesn't explain how Arthur and I eventually started hooking up. Well, let's just say I wrote about homosexuality in a paper and he pulled me out of class to talk about it. The rest is history. I've been to his flat; he's been to my house (When my mum isn't home, of course. Try explaining that to your parents). I lost my virginity to him; He lost his gay sex virginity to me. He likes books; I like movies about books. He likes handjobs; I have a thing for his perfect mouth around my cock. We both smoke, but I prefer pot and he occasionally likes tobacco.

Just before the final bell rings, Mrs. Du Lac pulls me out of my trance with a swift pat on the arm. She drops a paper office pass on the corner of my lab bench and I roll my eyes as I read who assigned it. Ms. Pendragon, who constantly called me up the office to check up on the bullying situation (As if she actually cared – she just didn't want concerned parents) issued the pass to me and I naturally assumed that a little report of the social situation would be the outcome of the visit.

I show my pass to the secretary, who nods me towards Ms. Pendragon's office. As soon as I get within a few footsteps from the door, I can hear shouts. I recognize both the voices involved. I knock once and my fist isn't a centimeter from the door when it swings open. Arthur holds the door open for me as he steps aside, his brow furrowed in an unflattering fashion and his hairline is dotted in little beads of sweat. Morgana, from behind her desk, is cool and calm. She offers me a fake smile as I enter and motions towards a chair in front of her desk. Arthur scowls at her as he takes a seat beside me and I resist the urge to look to him for any clue of why the hell I'm here with _him._

"So," Morgana smoothly says, sliding a pristine piece of paper across her clear desktop. "We have much to discuss, starting with allegations of you two being romantically involved."

Arthur's knuckles turn white from clutching the arms of the chair. "On what grounds, dear sister?"

She smiles at her brother and holds out the paper to him. "I received an email just an hour ago from an anonymous source expressing concerns and as an educator concerned only with the safely and security of the students of our school, I have to look into every possible lead of a rapist, pedophile teacher walking the hallways."

It was at that point that I puked in the nearest rubbish bin.

**A/N: New update sometime next week! Feedback would be appreciate, as this is my first fanfic. **


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